


Freebie

by lexyhamilton (ohheichoumyheichou)



Category: Pineapple Express (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohheichoumyheichou/pseuds/lexyhamilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU in which everything is the same except Saul is a hustler instead of a dealer.  Which, in my mind, is barely an AU, but probably only in my mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freebie

"What is _that_?"

"So, yeah, um, I thought maybe we could try a flavored condom..." Saul says. There's an awkward silence. "...Cause the normal ones taste kind of funny, to be honest, and I think it affects my performance and whatnot."

"Okay, if you say so," Dale mutters. "Do whatever you want." Just when he thought he found an easy, painless way to get blowjobs on the side, his rentboy decides to start having stilted conversations.

"So which flavor? There's like... strawberry-banana, cherry-lime, ooh! pina colada!"

"Shit, Saul, what do I care?"

There's an awkward silence again, finally broken by a short laugh from Saul.

"Yeah, sorry man, let me just get it ready."

Saul rips a packet open and starts to rub the underside of Dale's dick, fingers caressing his balls. Dale just sits there, as usual. He feels bad now, cutting Saul off like that. It might be awkward to make conversation with your rentboy, but Saul's nice enough. 

Wandering thoughts notwithstanding, Dale's cock is already at attention and Saul begins to pull the condom over it.

"Whoa that's strong." Dale scrunches his nose. "It's like if you were drinking real pina colada over there, I wouldn't smell it this much."

"Haha, yeah. I haven't had one in so long, I barely remember the taste. So like I couldn't even tell you if this tasted like real pina colada."

Saul's head dives down, and Dale feels just a little twinge of embarrassment again. Saul's been blowing him for a few months now, at least once a week. It's not like he doesn't know Dale's cock in and out by this point, and there's no use in being embarrassed, but every time Saul's mouth can just engulf the whole thing without deep-throating or any of that professional stuff Dale gets a bit depressed. Not that he's seen Saul's cock, so for all he knows Saul might be smaller. Would Angie think his cock is subpar? She's only in high school, but she's probably seen enough dicks to judge. She doesn't seem like she's planning to go to bed with him in the very near future, and he won't force it. Maybe at prom? Is he going to prom with her? God, he doesn't really want to think about it. It's kind of nice to just sit here and get an expert blowjob and then go off to deal with the rest of his life, satisfied and gentlemanly toward his girlfriend. It doesn't feel like cheating at all, because it's a guy. Guys are just better at knowing how to give a blowjob. 

Dale leans his head back, staring at the disturbingly random pictures decorating Saul's cramped 1BR. He can feel his body building to orgasm, but part of him wants to just chill on this couch for hours, Saul's warm mouth sucking his cock gently.

"So... how is it? The flavor..." Dale asks, inappropriately languid perhaps, given Saul's vigorous attempts to bring him to orgasm already. Saul lets go and sits back on his heels. He runs his tongue along his lips, eyes traveling to an upper corner, for all the world looking like a connoisseur of some sort.

"I don't know. It still tastes kind of condom-y."

"So not going to use it on your other guys? Am I the guinea pig?" Dale asks with a laugh.

"Oh, the other guys just let me do them with bare skin."

"Oh."

Saul dives back into action, and Dale is no longer thinking about Angie. Is he really the only one squeamish about blowjobs without protection? Hearing that other guys get it down without condoms does make him worry even more about catching some nasty STD from Saul. But it also makes him a little sad-- it's pretty much the total opposite of what he thought the arrangement was-- that Saul was talking to him more, that they were somehow more intimate. Is it snobby to want a condom? Is it that much better with a moist tongue right up against his skin? Should he be tipping Saul over and above the going rate? How much money could he be earning this way? Dale's only seen one other customer once, going in as Dale walked out.

"Hey, um, Saul..."

"Mm?"

"How much do you charge for... you know. Whatever you guys call it. Anal."

Saul squints, releases Dale's cock while scratching the back of his head, matted long hair moving up and down.

"Like, 40 bones? Unless you want to do scary kinky shit or something?"

"Oh, nah, I'm not interested, just curious."

Saul grins. "What, too hardcore for you?"

"No, no, just wondering. How you make a living. All that."

"Come on, have a sneak preview. On the house."

"Nah, it's okay."

"Come on, bro! For you, I'll give a freebie. Seriously."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, you ask, you shall receive." Saul gets up off his knees, and leans forward, pressing his forehead against Dale's, a cloud of fake pina colada and old t-shirt suddenly wafting into Dale's nose. "Seriously, if you don't like it, you don't have to pay any of it."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Fine." Dale is both uncomfortable and suddenly excited.

"You just want to sit and relax, right? I could do forward or reverse cowgirl."

"Uhhhh... how about some reverse." Damned if Dale is going to stare into Saul's face and distinct lack of boobs.

"Good choice, amigo. That's, like, almost my all-time favorite." Saul rolls down his pants, only to his knees. Dale tries to get a glimpse of his cock, but he's turned away, his ass, paler than most of the rest of him, poised over Dale's dick. Saul sits down gradually, shaking his hips side to side, getting up again, working his cotton pants all the way off and kneeling on the couch, thighs on either side of Dale's legs. He's gripping Dale's cock harder than Dale would like, practically jamming it into himself, but at this point it seems like it would be disruptive to complain. It's already bad-- Dale never really wanted this, but he feels like Saul's feelings will be hurt if he pretends he has to leave.

"Your junk is just not wanting to go in there," Saul says, with no rebuke or embarrassment. "I'll be right back."

He goes off, and Dale can't help staring at Saul's cock, dangling as he returns with a tub of vaseline in the crook of his arm, both hands occupied with rolling a joint. He uses an easy, practiced motion with one hand to slather lube over the condom in big, partially dry gobs, but seems more occupied with taking drags from the joint with the other hand.

"You want?" Saul holds the joint out to Dale.

"Naw, man, I'm gonna go limp. Thanks though."

Saul's eyes are glazing over a bit, blinks beginning to slow down. "Haha, oh I know. I usually have one or two before the guy comes if I know I'll be riding up and down. It loosens me up like nothing else. And my dick just totally dies. But I feel all those, like, nerve endings or whatever? are all relocating all over my body. So it's like dick concentrate diffusing all over. It feels really nice, actually." 

"Uh-huh... Sounds like it." Dale considers if maybe he should bring up leaving right now, but Saul practically falls into his lap, facing him this time, with a big sloppy squelching sound as his ass easily opens up.

"Ooh, I feel it," Saul says, eyes rolling up and closing, his whole body shivering. "Oh yes. Is it good for you?"

"Yeah. Um, yeah, it's not bad at all." Dale doesn't mean to sound so surprised. He just feels unnerved having to be face to face with Saul during this.

"Oh I love it too, man. It feel just right, you know? I could sit here all day."

Dale's eyebrows furrow without meaning to. 

Saul laughs. "But I won't. Don't worry." He takes one last long drag from his joint and reaches back to chuck it in the ashtray on his coffee table. He ties his hair back with a crappy scrunchie, and Dale's disturbed that this looks sort of cute, like a teenage girl except for the whole half-assed facial hair thing.

Saul begins to move up and down by a few inches, soon wrapping his arms around Dale's neck as anchor, exhaling "oh shit" every once in a while. Dale feels bad, because he just can't get into it. Saul's in some weird zone, but all Dale can think about is which route he's going to take to deliver the next subpoena on the list tomorrow. He tries to engage, reaches around grabbing Saul's smooth ass as it slides back and forth. Does he _wax_? He must. No guy has an ass this smooth. This is beginning to feel like cheating on Angie. Then Dale notices something.

"Hey, Saul?"

"Yesmm?" Saul's eyes are barely open, a dorky smile plastered on his face, working his body up and down at a slow, steady pace.

"Saul, it felt pretty good, but there's this strange tingling going on..."

"Tingling?"

"Yeah, tingling."

"Like what kind of tingling?"

"Uh, I think I'd call it unpleasant tingling. I don't think it's normal." 

"What do you mean?"

"Tingling. You know what tingling means, right?"

"Shit yeah."

Dale's eyes follow Saul up and down, waiting for a more helpful response, but Saul looks like he's almost in a trance, bleary red eyes, still grinding his lower half into Dale's. "Would you _stop_ for a sec?"

"Okay. So now what?"

"Well, get _off_ , first of all. There's something wrong with my dick, I swear."

"Okay, okay, let's see."

Saul gets off of Dale's lap and flicks his fingers across the cock.

"Ow! Shit, don't touch it! It's stinging."

Saul makes an effort at a serious face, peeling back the condom.

"Hey, why is it all red?!" Dale shouts.

Saul scratches his chin. "Yeah, that's kind of strange, bro. Maybe it's like circulation."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I dunno, maybe I constricted your blood vessels or something."

"Why's it stinging then?"

"Shit, man, I dunno!"

"I bet it's that dumbass fruity condom of yours." Dale shakes his head in frustration and trudges off to the bathroom. He's running the shower water over his cock, hardly able to touch it.

Saul straggles into the bathroom quietly, studying the condom.

"Aww, _man_! This thing totally fell apart from the lube. Geez, what the hell! Shit, man, I'm so sorry. They make this retarded shitty merchandise. No fucking standards. It's melting, practically. I bet it's like the acidity of the flavoring or something... I'm feeling it in my ass too."

Dale considers relinquishing his spot in the shower to Saul, but he's too angry. He tries not to dwell on the fact that he's been doing anal with a gay prostitute using a ruined condom. 

Saul sits down on the toilet, rolling the TP back and forth with his index finger idly.

"Yeah, geez, it's like stinging me on the inside. Fucking pina colada."

Dale climbs out of the shower. "I don't think you should be using flavored condoms in your ass in any case."

"Yeah, I guess..." Saul says, as he stumbles into the bathtub.

Dale waits outside the bathroom. It's awkward. He should just go without paying. Not like he even came, and maybe he should be running to the HIV clinic right about now, wherever that is. He starts unlocking the door.

Saul's more sober-looking head peeps out from the bathroom. "Hey, are you heading off?" 

"Uh, well... I don't know, it's kind of late. How much do I owe you?"

"Come on man, what are you on? That was a friggin disaster."

"Well, sorry for your time or whatever. Even disasters cost something, right?" Dale attempts a laugh.

"Aww, I feel awful. That totally sucked." Saul turns the water off, comes out, pulling the same cotton pajama pants back on on. Does he ever change his clothes? "Hey, you want dinner or something?"

The way Saul blurts it out... Dale can't decide if it's the ultimate premeditated invitation or just the first thing that popped into his head.

"Eh, I got work early tomorrow..." Better not to get involved any further.

"Ah, yeah, sorry bro. I forgot. Morning job." Saul smiles. It seriously is the most open, honest smile Dale has ever seen, even though it's sheepish and maybe even a tad disappointed?

"What the hell. I'm hungry."

Saul's beam goes wider, and he trudges off into the kitchen, pajama pants shuffling. Dale hears the sticky sound of a fridge door opening, and wonders if the fridge is the same sort of mess as the living room.

"Uh, I got... orange juice, and rice pudding, and... Twizzlers here in the cupboard... oh, here, my Bubbie made me this casserole." Saul walks out into the living room prying open a large pyrex dish with a rubber cover and sniffing it. "It was really good when she made it. I don't know, maybe now it's not so great. It's still probably better than the average casserole..."

"How about we go somewhere to eat?"

"Sounds good!" Saul puts the casserole on the coffee table and Dale hopes that he'll remember to put it back in the fridge later, but isn't going to say anything. This is weird enough already.

"So what's open now?" Dale asks when they're already in the car.

Saul screws up his eyebrows and pouts his lips just a little bit when he thinks. It makes Dale actually want another blowjob, despite mentally vowing to never ask one from Saul again. 

"Um, the Wendy's out on the freeway should be. That's probably it."

"Fucking suburbia," Dale mutters.

Saul laughs.

***

Saul slurps up the remnants of his Frosty shake at the bottom of the cup, cheeks hollowing as his empty straw gurgles loud enough for everyone else around them to hear. Having gulped a bunch of air he just slumps back into his booth seat, staring at Dale chewing his hamburger.

"You finished that fast. Want another one?" Dale offers. He didn't foresee that footing the bill would make it feel like a date, but he's glad, since Saul wouldn't accept cash for their earlier activity.

"Oh nah. I'm just always starving by nighttime. It's cause I don't usually eat much during the day, if I'm going to be working at night."

"Wow." Dale tries to keep the conversation going. "Didn't realize how much dedication goes into it."

"Yeah, well, you don't want me throwing up all over your dick or something, right?"

"Dude. That's just disgusting."

"What?"

There aren't many people in the Wendy's at half past midnight, but Dale would rather not have these conversations.

"I'm still eating, okay?"

Saul sits still for a moment, then begins squirming again.

"You know, I'm gonna get another one. They taste so good." 

Dale hands him another couple dollar bills, and Saul gets up and hobbles to the counter, then hobbles back.

"You okay, man?" Dale licks the grease off his fingers, frowning as he watches Saul crash down into the seat awkwardly. "Looks like you can barely walk."

"Yeah, I dunno. It's still stinging like a bitch. I went to the bathroom, and it's like bleeding and stuff."

"Um, okay, that sounds like you should probably go to the hospital?"

"I dunno. I'm kind of not into hospitals."

"What?"

"I don't think I have insurance or anything."

Dale shakes his head and is about to say something when Saul's cellphone rings.

"Hey baby... naw, I think I'm out of commission tonight... Haha, no dude! ... No, seriously, I can't tonight..."

Dale tries to be discreet and averts his eyes, as if his eyes are what's following the conversation.

"Okay okay, bye... Bye... Yeah, I swear!... Okay, bye, bitch."

He snaps his phone closed and shakes his head, sighing.

"That one of your clients?" Dale finally asks, sipping his Coke.

"Yeah. Never fucking gets the hint. I don't like having him even on my good days. Weird fucker."

Dale wonders if he's any better in Saul's book, but decides not to ask. They seem like they're better friends, but then it's not like Saul ever calls him 'baby.' 

He drives Saul back to his apartment. Saul can barely make it up the few steps up to the glass outer door. Dale ends up carrying him up the stairs to his apartment. He tries not strain as Saul fumbles with the keys. Finally he deposits him on the bed, less gently than he was aiming for. His back does not appreciate sudden exercise like that.

"Hey, listen, I worry about you, man. You live here all alone, you're subsisting on like pot and milkshakes, and now you can't even walk right. Seriously, I worry."

"Nah, I'm just sore. Never thought a condom could be so deadly, heh. I'm sure it's fine."

"Let me take a look." Shit. How did that just come out? And Saul takes him up on the offer, so here they are, on Saul's bed, Saul's pajama pants on the floor, legs spread, knees bent, Dale peering between Saul's legs. Like he's an expert on how an asshole is supposed to look normally.

Saul picks his head up a few inches. "So?"

"Yeah, I can't see anything wrong."

"See? Told you. It's probably nothing," Saul mutters, slumping back, pulling the pillow from behind his head and clutching it in his arms, over most of his face, just his eyes out, still watching Dale.

Dale sighs, and gets up off the bed, arranging his tie, turning to Saul when he hears muffled words muttered into the pillow.

"Sleepwithme,Dale."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Thanks for, like, everything. Dinner was great. And thanks for bringing me up."

"Uh, no problem. Okay... take care of yourself, buddy. Um, if you need-- if you decide to go to the hospital or something, um, you can call me. I'll give you a ride..."

"Would you stay in the waiting room?"

"Uh... yeah... yeah, sure. Why not. If I'm not superbusy with work and stuff."

It's awkward silence again. Saul is staring at him expectantly. Dale goes into the living room, puts away the casserole back into the refrigerator.

"Okay... good night..." Dale says, waving his fingers. He feels bad leaving Saul there, looking so bedridden and miserable but the guy doesn't want medical attention, so what can he do?

Dale sits down in his car. 1:40. It's way too late to call Angie to wish her good night. A crushing sense of loneliness begins to set in.

***

Saul squirms in bed. He feels guilty-- he was definitely exaggerating how hard it was to make it up the stairs, just to have an excuse to be held, taken care of. Dale was the only customer who ever showed any smidgen of that, and he was trying to milk that for all it was worth. God, he'd probably not charge Dale for anything if he just asked.

He begins jerking off, thinking of Dale with him in bed, maybe not even doing anything hardcore, just spooning.


End file.
